


Burn like a Candle

by ladygrange



Category: Jimmy Page - Fandom, Led Zeppelin, classic rock - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I'm nervous, ohmygod
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 13:23:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16305959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygrange/pseuds/ladygrange
Summary: A smutty one shot





	Burn like a Candle

Her head lolls on his shoulder, where droplets of water linger and slide. Her tongue darts out to swipe one off his collarbone and Jimmy twitches inside her, prompting a lazy smile. Lap to lap, between his long arms and long legs, his long neck right before her lips, she doesn’t know how long they’ve been out of the bath. Jimmy lifts his shoulder, making her cheek roll a bit, but she has trouble summoning her muscles. The hand on her spine, keeping her close, moves under the wet fall of her hair to comb the strands out. She raises her head when his fingers catch in a snarl. Jimmy frowns sheepishly.

“Sorry, darling.”

She runs her hands over the naked stretch of his back but doesn’t say anything, just meets his mouth for a languid kiss. His tongue is wet and warm and tangles gently with hers, lets her have the lead. She hums a contented sound at the soft scrape of his beard on her cheeks, rocking her hips gently. Jimmy makes a gruff sound in his throat, one that causes another flutter inside. A log breaks in the fire nearby and she pulls back to look at him. His eyes are heavy-lidded, lips half-parted. Her heart kicks. It’s that weightless, swooping tug in her tummy, as though she’d gone up and down a hill. She wants more of him.

She touches her forehead against his. “Why haven’t you come yet?”

A faint curve touches his lips. “No reason.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “Talk to me, darling.”

She rubs her nose in his dark beard, to the spot of skin before his ear. “What about?”

“You spoke to the Gianini people, yes?” Jimmy’s untangled the knot in her hair and makes absent strokes while he speaks. “I worried they might not ship the Craviola here. Headley Grange isn’t the easiest place to navigate.”

She sighs into his warmth. “The man on the phone was very accomodating. Went on for some time about the Rosewood sides, the laminated Spruce front. I know the molecular structure at this point.”

Jimmy presses a kiss to her temple. “It’s essential information, my darling.”

“Yes,” she says drily. “Especially essential when I asked about Brazilian couscous. Then I blathered on about about pasta for far too long.” She tilts back to give him a look. “You’d think I’d be better at these sorts of conversations.”

His nose scrunches and his lips purse, obviously holding back laughter. “You’re a sparkling conversationalist, darling.”

“Uh huh,” she says, giving in to her smile. “You should’ve been on the line.”

His calloused fingertips make a leisurely run between her shoulder blades, his gaze turned contemplative “You think it’ll sound alright? On the road, I mean.”

“Yes.” She watches him worry his lip. “Yes, of course I do. It’s a perfect fit.” She teases his chin with kiss. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

She’s confident in her statement, she’d known it from looking at the asymmetrical pear shaped instrument, its steel strings ringing in her ears. The salesman on the phone had been just as assured, telling her again and again of the wood quality. Which reminds her...

“The elm, near the back fence,” she says. Jimmy glances down at her with a puzzled look. “It should be down by tomorrow evening.”

Half its foliage suffers from a disease the groundskeeper had deemed fungus. She doesn’t know a thing about fungus. Jimmy nods, face still serious.

“I know, I volunteered to handle the chainsaw.”

She laughs, and it tightens their connection for a brief moment. He gives a soft, quick inhale and smiles at her.

“You did no such thing, Jimmy,” she chides, leaning into him.

He pulls her closer. “Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t.”

“Yeah? How’s that rug burn on your ass?”

She gasps when he smacks her bottom. He palms the spot, spreading heat into her damp skin until it dissolves. The glib reply in her head vanishes, gone aware of him still wedged inside her, her ache gathering sweet and thick. Jimmy brushes hair from face, fingers glancing across her forehead, feather light, then skimming down her jaw, delicate and intentional, as though making a memory of her.

She takes a breath, watching him and keeping every detail.

She’s caught up in her study: the brackets of his eyebrows, the piece of hair that curls down to touch the edge of one brow. She’s close enough to see the delicate tracery of veins on his eyelids. Irises the color of leaves after heavy rain, rich and saturated, with their puffy lower lids that crease at her silence. She traces the dark slash of beard down his cheeks, a hairy interruption to his face, broken by the full damp slice of lower lip. She takes in the whole as she does every morning, the day itself all in face. The truth of this strikes her in the throat. She grips his shoulders tighter. Jimmy nudges her back to their conversation, she feels it as a light pat her bottom.

“But you had a good day?” Jimmy asks quietly.

She puts a kiss to the rounded tip of his nose.

“And you’re alright?” His voice grown softer but still urgent.

She nuzzles down to his adam’s apple and places a little bite there. She likes knowing it’ll be a week’s mark, hidden by collars and scarves and sweaters. Jimmy groans in response and she huddles further into his body.

“And you love me?”

She hides her face in his warm neck and twists her hips on the thickness inside. Her breath catches on the pleasure of it, on the way his voice cracks for a second. She reaches for a kiss, his mouth sweet and bland, crushed together while his hands sweep along her sides. She lurches at the touch of his fingertips seeking the sensitive strip of skin below her opening, just past their connection. Her mouth falls from his and her eyes shut.

She’s the weak with need, too close again.

With each slick rub of his fingers there, one deft stroke after the next, she knows he’s watching her every expression. The knowing makes her squirm closer. Without warning, Jimmy takes his fingers away. She moans, shocked at the unfairness, and opens her eyes. His fingers glisten in the firelight, glazed with her arousal. She barely has time to process when Jimmy starts to lick, with a sound that says he’s savoring the taste. She doesn’t think about kissing his fingers, trapping them between their mouths, until her own stickiness meets her tongue. Jimmy groans and grabs her roughly by the neck, taking over with ease. He laps her mouth with greedy noises while his free hand glides down to her bottom. With a pull, Jimmy hugs her hips upward and slips further inside, to a deep and tender spot that makes her thighs jerk around his waist. She breaks the kiss with a shaky, pained wail.

"Hush," he whispers, nuzzling her earlobe, "let me take care of you, darling."

She clings to him for balance, her voice gone breathless. “Too deep, Jimmy. I-”

He urges her torso back, the hand on her neck massaging her to relax. She searches his eyes, finds them soft and wanting, his mouth moving closer to her breasts. Pink and puckered, she watches Jimmy take her nipple into his hot mouth, the peak stiff on his tongue. He suckles, his beard black against the eggshell skin, and she can’t help her head going lax in his hold, or her eyes rolling to the ceiling. Her body grips him, grows wetter. She wants him to push her down on the plush rug, ankles drawn over his shoulders, holding her for the hard shoves that send her over the edge. But she keeps release at bay. When Jimmy bites down, she barely contains the clumsy hitch of her hips. He tracks kisses along to her other nipple and flicks his tongue, rasping her name. She recognizes that tone and straightens her neck.

Jimmy releases her slowly, intent in his unwavering gaze. She can’t look away from him, his cheeks burnished in the glow of the fire, eyes shining and certain. His fingers are more than slick from her sex as they settle on her swollen clit. The touch of his thumb jolts her further into his body. Pleasure drips syrup slow through her veins, makes her want to stay endlessly pitched that way. She opens her mouth, licks her lips, wants to tell him something, but the heavy ache in her chest won’t let the words out. Jimmy searches her in turn, his thumb swirling all the while. She’s held in the thrall of the pulse between them: a shared heartbeat that she can feel. This thought arrives like a wonder. She doesn't realize she's spoken it aloud until Jimmy's smiling at her.

The inevitable swell takes her by surprise, though Jimmy doesn’t speed his strokes, only lets her feel. In the brilliant split, when she’s lost, Jimmy presses tender kisses all over her face, murmuring her name. Her fingers dig into his nape and her mouth opens against his bushy cheek. And there it is, that bright and shivering moment that has her locked wetly around him.

Through sheer force of will, she pries her eyes apart for the look, the one he has when he comes. Breath ragged and shallow, she tucks his hair behind his ears. It’s dry now, the waves loose and long. His throat works and his hands clutch her body so tight that she’ll feel the impressions for hours. Jimmy makes a desperate sound for her, throwing his head back, caught in his own pleasure absolutely. She supports his neck on her forearm, her hips sealed and steady to his lap, receiving the hot spill.

She falls back against his shoulder and takes a deep breath, soothed by Jimmy’s palm steady along her back. It takes her a moment to register the rocking motion, that he’s rocking them slowly, an even rhythm. When her cheek grows too hot from the blaze, she turns into his face, kissing the bottom line of his beard where it grows at his neck. A satisfied sound rumbles in his chest; she kisses upward until his smooth upper cheek is under her lips. At last, she meets his eyes.

And she knows them for what they are. Eyes that bid rest. Be at peace. Trust me.

And she does.


End file.
